


Some Other Time

by Telesilla



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Crossdressing, From a prompt, M/M, San Francisco Giants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 22:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Tim's seen dozens of luggage mishaps but he's never seen pink satin and white lace spilling out of a teammate's bag...until today. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Other Time

**Author's Note:**

> So, on tumblr, I asked for ficlet prompts from a list and I got this: _Innocence, (Hunter/Buster/Brandon/Tim), either cannon as baseball players or an AU._
> 
> The result is not a ficlet, but it's not exactly to the prompt either. I had ideas but then it went in a different direction.

Tim's seen dozens of luggage mishaps but he's never seen pink satin and white lace spilling out of a teammate's bag...until today. The zipper on Buster's bag broke at some point and it looks like he has the contents of a Victoria's Secret store stuffed in there, which is really weird because....

He's still staring when someone puts their hand on his shoulder and clamps down hard. "Don't. Say. A. Thing."

Even as Hunter's speaking, Belt's bending over Buster's bag and messing with the zipper. He's still working on it when Buster comes around the side of the bus. "What's the hold up?" He looks at them, Hunter looming behind Tim with his hand on Tim's shoulder and Belt crouched over his luggage. "Is something...."

"The zipper on your bag broke," Belt says. "And um...."

"Tim saw some of your stuff," Hunter says with a sigh.

"I didn't see much and it doesn't matter," Tim says quickly because wow, he knew they were all...together, but this is getting kind of weird. "Just relax, guys."

Buster's face goes...blank. It's kind of freaky actually, but he suddenly looks like he's facing the press after a really bad game. Like he's locked up tight. "We don't have time for this," he says, nudging Belt out of the way. He bends down, fiddles with his bag and then, once he's shoved everything back in it, picks it up by the strap and carries it like that.

"Shit," Belt mutters. 

"You want to talk to him or to Timmy?"

"Um...." Belt looks at Tim and then winces a little. "I'll go talk to him."

"You know," Tim says as he watches Belt take his own bag and head after Buster into the depths of Petco. "If you guys hadn't made such a big deal, I'd just...I dunno. Figured it was none of my business. And you know what? I still think that."

"It's not...look, everything would have been fine if Buster didn't know you saw something. He doesn't...you have no idea what it took him to say anything to us. The idea that someone else knows is." Hunter takes a deep breath, like he's trying to remember how to get a full sentence out. "Well, you saw what happened."

"Will he be okay?"

"Oh, he'll be fine once the game starts. But I think you'll need to come up to the room after and clear the air because it'll eat at him."

"I don't even know what 'it' is. I mean, so he wears girls underwear or whatever. Big fucking deal. Just tell him I've seen freakier shit, because I have." He's maybe even done freakier shit back in the day, although not with Buster. They fucked a whole lot in 2010, but it wasn't anything weird or unusual--nothing that involved lingerie.

"It's not just...look, we've gotta go. Come by the room after the game okay? I'll text you the room number."

Tim's not stupid enough to stare at Buster as he gets into his uni, but he can still tell Buster's a little off. Neither Belt nor Hunter are anywhere near Buster because they're all super careful in the clubhouse; Tim's pretty sure at least half the team has no idea that they're all involved. But because of that, Buster looks oddly isolated, even when Peavy comes over and starts to talk over the game plan with him. 

Once the game gets going, Tim's in the bullpen; he can't really tell if Buster's okay or not. He's hitting well, but then again, when Buster's on the kind of hot streak he's on right now, Tim's pretty sure he could hit during an earthquake. 

It's only when the phone rings and Gardy looks over at him, that Tim realizes things are about to get really weird. Peavy's doing okay, but the break's coming up and Boch is trying to let people rest even before they all head their separate ways for a few days. Tim hasn't pitched in a couple days and Petit had a few innings yesterday so...so here Tim is, throwing to Whitey and hoping he can keep his head in the game.

There are two on and only one out when Boch finally takes the ball from Peavy and hands it to Tim. "It's the Padres," Buster says. 

"Yeah," Tim says with a smile. "I could suck and I'd still have them."

"You don't suck," Buster says. "You haven't all year and you're not gonna start now." It's typical Buster, like he could control the outcome with a simple statement of fact. It hasn't always worked, not between the two of them, but it mostly does these days. Tim nods and asks about Venable even though he really doesn't need to.

He'd worried that he'd look at Buster crouched down there behind the plate and think about pink satin, but the moment Buster throws down the first sign, Tim's in the game. He gets Venable to ground into a double play after only two pitches and he stays in the game, both mentally and literally, for the rest of it. He expects to be taken out for Casilla in the ninth, but when Boch asks him what he's got in the tank and he says, "another inning," out of the corner of his eye, he can see Buster nodding.

Some of the guys are going out after and when Hunter texts him the room number, Tim almost texts back and tells him not to worry. But then he catches sight of Buster and maybe they just won the first game of an important series, but Buster looks like he did earlier--mouth set in a straight line and eyes just a little wide.

Tim's even more tempted to turn around and go out with the guys when he walks through the door into...whoever's room it technically is. There's an untouched bottle of tequila sitting on the desk and Belt--Brandon, Tim decides since he's apparently about to learn more about their sex life than he really wants to know. 

Okay that's a lie, but whatever. 

Brandon's sitting on the edge of the bed nearest the window looking nervously between Hunter, who's leaning against the wall near the door, and Buster, who's got his back to the room as he stares out at the back of the Petco score board. 

There's nothing but tension in the room and Tim takes a deep breath. "Look, whatever this is about...I don't need to know. You don't have to tell me anything." He is, he realizes, ignoring Brandon and Hunter and talking to the back of Buster's head. "It didn't change anything out there today and it doesn't have...."

"It's about not being me," Buster says without turning around. "It's not just...I dunno, wearing girls underwear because I like the way they feel or something. When I'm dressed up...they take care of me. I don't have to...."

"To do anything." It's Brandon speaking and suddenly, he looks very sure of himself. "You don't have to lift a finger."

"Or put one down," Hunter says with a little laugh and just like that, Tim gets it.

"Why," he says, startling the hell out of himself. "Why didn't you tell me?" And wow, he sounds hurt, like maybe he isn't as over 2010 as he thought. Before Buster can say anything, Tim answers his own question. "Because I laughed at you too much."

"Yeah," Buster says. "And, of course you did. I was laughable, thinking everything would just be fine because I wanted it to be. That is...." He finally turns around and faces Tim. "That's the problem."

"There are no magic words," Tim says, remembering something Zito said to him during a phone call last year. "And when you can't fix things, because you're you it eats at you. So you, what, become someone else?"

"Not," Hunter says, his voice startling because Tim almost forgot he was there. "Not Daddy's Little Girl, if that's what you're thinking."

And yeah that kind of was what Tim was thinking, but even though he wants to ask more questions, he just looks at Buster. "You've said enough. It's not funny; I get that. It's not like I was going to tell anyone and it's not...I'm not laughing, okay? I won't even laugh when I think about it later."

Buster nods and for some reason, Tim keeps talking. "I'm sorry, because you're right. I would have laughed, back in 2010. When things were...."

"When things were easy," Buster says. "A few hiccups along the way but nothing a few beers, a couple bowls and some blow jobs couldn't fix."

Put that way, it makes it sound like it was all so shallow and yeah, it actually was. Because it was easy, so fucking easy. Even that awful August was just a low lying speed bump on their way to winning it all. 

"You wouldn't have told me anyway," Tim says. "Because you didn't need dress up to get it. Because you had it then, didn't you?"

"Had what?" Brandon asks.

"Innocence," Tim says. He finally looks at Brandon. "Like never failing in the minors and thinking it's all yours, all you have to do once you reach the Show is reach out and take it."

"Yeah," Brandon says with a nod. "A lot like that."

"Like 'why can't we do this every year?'" Buster says. "God, I'd probably laugh at myself, at the way I was back then."

"But it's not back then," Hunter says. "And we're all still here. And if it takes coping mechanisms that they don't teach you in Little League, then that's what it takes."

"He's right and that's all I need to know," Tim says. "I think we're done...."

"Do you want to see?"

Brandon and Hunter stare at Buster, Hunter with his mouth open a little. Brandon's face is tight and he looks oddly scared and once again, Tim has a little flash of insight.

"No," he says. "You don't need to do that." He crosses the room and takes Buster's hand in his. "Some other time," he says, and maybe the other two don't get it, but he hopes Buster does.

"Some other us," Tim adds, just in case he's wrong. He lifts Buster's hand to his mouth and kisses his palm. "I remember what you looked like. What you do now...it's not for me. It's for you and for Hunter and for Brandon."

"Yeah," Buster says, curling his hand up. "Okay."

Later that night, when, presumably, they're all doing whatever it is they do, Tim stares up at the ceiling. It's weird, he thinks, because until tonight he wouldn't have said they were innocent in 2010. 

He remembers Buster, in this very hotel, half drunk and laughing as they looked out over Petco. "We're gonna do this," Buster said and he turned to smile at Tim and Tim grinned back at him. 

"Yeah, we are," he said as he crossed the room to join Buster. "And the team's gonna win it all, too." 

No, he thinks now. He would have laughed at anyone who said either of them was innocent after what they got up to that night, but God, they were. He can't blame Buster for wanting something that erases time and injury and an inability to fix things by sheer force of will. And if that involves dressing up like a girl and having two men who are, incidentally, bigger than Buster, take care of him...well, it's weird but who cares, if it works. 

For long few moments, Tim feels a fierce surge of jealousy and, wow, he feels like an asshole once he gets over it. At least he didn't say yes. It's stupid to think that he could possibly give Buster what he needs; it's all Tim can do to take care of a pair of dogs, let alone a boyfriend who, apparently, needs a lot of taking care of. 

It's okay, he tells himself and then waits for that little voice in the back of his head to call bullshit. But it doesn't and yeah, it really is okay. 

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> This is owes a little to some old meta between [missmollyetc](http://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/pseuds/missmollyetc) and I have had about Buster and crossdressing, so thank you for that, Molly. :)
> 
> Also, here's the thing, when Tim thinks it's freaky or weird, that's him talking and not me, okay?


End file.
